Colorless Christmas
by Eizoku
Summary: It is three years after the fall of Voldemort, and Remus is spending Christmas alone again. Can his hallucinations convince him to move on?


Disclaimer: I want you to take a wild guess at what I should say here.  
  
A/N: Here's just a little Christmas fic that popped into my head this afternoon. I got the idea from the weather we've had today. Pleas Read and Review. I'd greatly appreciate it.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------  
--------------------------------  
  
~ Colorless Christmas ~  
  
It's Christmas, and yet, it feels like a soggy autumn day. All of the lawns, with their brightly lit trees and reindeer, are a mossy green. The gray sky spits down at us every few minutes, and the fog floating over the lane mixes with the mist exhaled from my lungs. Cold water droplets drip from the naked branches of the trees. Brown leaves lay scattered on the ground, most of them half submerged in some puddle or other.  
  
Walking along the lane, I wonder why I even bothered to decorate for the holiday. The small, dark green tree in my sitting room had and will have no gifts beneath it. Only a simple string of cranberries adorn it, with a few clear baubles attached to random branches. I had managed to find a childlike angel to set atop the tree; my gold-painted glass star had shattered the year before.  
  
For three years now, I have spent Christmas alone. With no family, and no friends to celebrate it with. But in a way, I am not alone, for I have grown into the habit of imagining the day with my old friends. For that one day of the year, I forget the fact that three are dead, and one is in prison - for causing the deaths of the others. For that one day, I forgive and forget everything.  
  
And for that one day, I can be with them again.  
  
I stop walking along the dirt road, and I look off to my left. There is a rustling in the brush. A second later, a large black dog leaps onto the road. I smile as he dances around for a little while before sprinting up to me.  
  
"Padfoot," I laugh as he barks loudly and tugs at my pant leg. "And where are the others?"  
  
Though he cannot speak, I know what he would say.  
  
"They're coming," he would say. "Pete's holding them up again, as usual!"  
  
I shake my head and follow the black dog as he bounds away.  
  
My footing stumbles, and I briefly pause to catch my balance. In that small gap in my concentration, the dogs fades into the air, and the wind is silent, but for the quiet whispering as it picks through the leaves on the ground. My face creases into a small frown, and I shiver slightly. They are all gone, I realize, not for the first time.  
  
Christmas is a time for family, and friends. But what do you do if you have none?  
  
I sit before the fire with a mug of hot cocoa and whipped cream that melts into a creamy puddle on the surface of the chocolate. I try not to see the lonesome Christmas tree in the corner of the room, with its scarlet berries and glass baubles. I think of the good times we used to have, and I see Them again.  
  
Peter walks up to me, holding out a gift.  
  
"Happy Christmas, Remus," he says.  
  
I smile at him and take it.  
  
"Thank you," I say, clasping him in a short, brotherly embrace. He sits in the other chair and watches as I slowly unwrap the gift.  
  
I grin as the leather-bound book falls into my lap. "'The Beast that is Not,'" I read aloud.  
  
"Do you like it?" he wonders. "I saw it on the shelf, and I thought of you."  
  
"It's wonderful, Peter," I assure him sincerely.  
  
The fire crackles, and he fades into shadow. I look down at my mug. The cocoa is cold, and I absently swirl the skin around before setting it back down on the table in front of me.  
  
They are slowly disappearing. As time goes on, I see Them less and less often. At first I was startled whenever they suddenly appeared in my rooms, in my garden, in the store as I shopped. But as time wore on, their appearances seemed to grow less. I began to miss the unusual instances when one of them would show up beside me.  
  
Tonight I cook my simple Christmas supper, drowsily beckoning the potatoes out of their skins and sighing as the salmon refuses to bake properly. I hear a laugh behind me.  
  
"You seem to be having some trouble, Remus. Would you like me to lend a hand?"  
  
I turn and smile as Lily strides over to the stove and removes the fish from the oven. "What?" she exclaims. "You didn't even flavor it?" She summons several jars of herbs from a cabinet and sprinkles a thin layer of them onto the salmon, before sliding it back into the oven and turning the dial. "You're hopeless, Remus," she says fondly, and I chuckle.  
  
"I know, Lily. Sirius and James tell me that everyday."  
  
The kettle whistles, and I turn away to remove it from the burner. When I look back, she is gone. Not even an echo remains. Only the empty silence that had filled my house before.  
  
Sitting at my scarred, wooden table with a single candelabrum holding three white candles as I silently eat my supper, I reactively turn to look out the window when I hear pattering on the pane. All I can see out there is black, though I can sense the rain pouring down from the surly night sky.  
  
"Ah, don't be so down, Moony. It's Christmas, after all."  
  
I look back at the previously empty chair to my right. James has turned it around backwards and is straddling it as he gives me an encouraging grin.  
  
"Yes, I know, but.."  
  
"Listen, Remus." His smile has disappeared, to be replaced by a serious expression. "You can't stay like this forever. We knew that one day, everything would change. We just didn't know it would be so soon, and what it was that would change."  
  
I nod, closing my eyes as I rest my elbows on the table. James's chair creaks, and I feel a hand on my shoulder.  
  
"Have a Happy Christmas, Remus. Don't think about us. Think about those that are still here for you to care for. And will you do me a favor?"  
  
"Anything."  
  
"One, day, you will get a letter from an old mentor of yours, asking for your assistance. I want you to do what that letter requests, and once you have, please watch over Harry until you know there is no need."  
  
I look up. "I don't understand."  
  
"You may not now, but you will when the time comes. Will you promise me this?"  
  
I look back down at my half empty plate, where my supper is getting cold. "Yes. Yes, of course, James. You have my word."  
  
When I glance up again, I am the only one in the room.  
  
~ {End}~ 


End file.
